[X] My Assistant

[Master Houndoom]

Sometimes, you and your RP friends cannot post at the same pace. Sometimes one person just gets busy, leaving the rest of the group waiting, or posting around them to get the story going, leaving them to catch up. It can get frustrating, especially since, for the most part, there's nothing we can do about it: Real Life trumps Roleplay 99% of the time.

Starting today, there will be a way for some of you to alleviate that problem. Now announcing the implementation of second characters, or Alts, in Uprising!

A second character must adhere to the following rules:

• You can't play both characters in one RP. This is to prevent confusion, the possibility of double posting, and making a mission easy for one or the other character.
• You must be experienced. To submit a second character, you must have a score of 10 in two roleplays.
• Only two characters total, ever. If you wish to make a third character, you must resign one of your existing two and make a second character instead.
• Alts must be distinctive from Primaries. I don't want to see the same type of character. This distinctiveness must be beyond faction differences, and gender differences, while one way of making a distinction, will not be the sole difference between characters.

Resigning Alts is the same as resigning Primaries: You may pull half of the total pokemon levels from the resigned characters to the new one. Also, there is no restriction in resigning characters: You can resign the Primary to make a new Alt. Please note, the names "Primary" and "Alt" are for differentiation only; there is no functional difference between the two, and one is not less important than the other. The "Primary" will likely be the character you've had the longest.

Second Characters are not restricted to certain factions; You do not have to have the Alt in Magma if your Primary is in Aqua or the Rebellion. It is, however, a good idea to separate them by factions, if only for a way to play differently.

The application process is nearly identical to creating a Primary: You post to the Profiles thread as if creating a new character. However, beyond that, and stealing the idea blatantly from Bogart, you must provide a sample RP in this thread for each character on a topic of your choosing. In Spoiler Tags, RP the two characters encountering similar situations, so that the mods may see an example of their distinctiveness, which will then be added to the collective.

This is currently in trial. If it, for some reason, simply doesn't work, an announcement will be made to end the trial and second characters will be removed. However, I do not anticipate that happening. After the trial period, rules may change to make sure the privilege is not being exploited in some way; for example, we may add faction restrictions.

Post the roleplay comparison below, plus a link to your Primary's Progress Tracking post so that we can verify the level requirements.
Enjoy!

[Kamaitachi]

Hooo boy. Let's get this rolling.

Alternate Character Application:
Credentials:
Danca Da Morte: 10/15
Warehouse Tango: 14/15

Progress Tracking - Kanoa Kaipo

Roleplay Samples: Kanoa Kaipo and Dr. Regan Chamuel
Scenario: Fine Dining

"Oh, thanks!" Kanoa smiled broadly to the waiter as he received a menu, gently placed in his hands.

"Can I get you something to drink?" That sounded like the best plan. Kanoa reached down into his pocket, plucking out one of the many fake IDs he possessed, handing it to the waiter before he could even ask for it.

"A Kanto Syrah, a good vintage if you've got one." He flashed a winning smile. "I like 2004. Awesome year for Kanto Reds." The waiter appeared pleasantly surprised at Kanoa's wine knowledge. Had he assumed that Kanoa had learned it all from his rich parents, he would've assumed correctly. He was far busier attempting to spot out any flaws in Kanoa's fake. Upon close scrutiny, he still found no real flaw in it. The waiter gave a little shrug before handing it back and leaving.

Kanoa pored over the menu. Now that he'd chosen a wine, he wanted something to go with it. He had been in the mood for steak, but some of the signature entrees sounded absolutely delicious. The problem was that he often knew most of these to be very expensive but in very small portions. While he would've enjoyed, say, the Ravioli Castelia, he would've finished it in two bites. Kanoa had no choice but to order steak. It would go well with his wine, and it'd probably be enough to fill him up as well."

As the waiter returned, he set down the glass of red wine in front of Kanoa, who blinked owlishly.

"Oh, sorry boss. I wanted a bottle." The waiter seemed a little taken aback, both at the request as well as the fairly...casual...way Kanoa spoke. He didn't talk like an entitled rich kid, but he acted like- "I'll drink this glass first. Could you bring me a bottle after?" Okay, he didn't act like an entitled rich kid. "And I'll have the Blackthorn City Steak Special. Rare." The waiter once again seemed surprised that a teenaged boy, who was in all honesty probably not more than 18, had fairly sophisticated tastes.

"So...when do you get off your shift?" Kanoa grinned broadly once again, making sure to lock eyes with the server. Was...was he being flirted with?

"Oh, uh. Straight o'clock." The waiter blinked "I mean Eight. O'clock. Straight. Right." He wasn't used to young guys hitting on him. Just cougar-like older women. They tipped him well, but he always gently refused their advances.

"Oh, okay." Kanoa appeared a little disappointed. "What's your name, waiter?"

"Oh, uh. Jeff?"

"Okay, Jeff. Let's see how this wine tastes before you bring me a bottle. That'd be smart, right?" Kanoa swirled the glass lightly before taking the tiniest of sips. He savored for a moment, then swallowed the wine, a pensive look on his face. "Yeah, you should totally bring me the bottle. This wine's tops." Again, the lopsided grin appeared, and Kanoa nodded to the waiter. "Thanks Jeff."

"You're, very welcome sir."

vs

She folded her thin hands neatly in her lap, raising an eyebrow as the menu was placed in front of her on the table.

"Ma'am, may I get you something to drink?"

"You may." Regan's stern expression did not change as her eyes flicked over the menu. The wine list was clearly on the table, within her reach. She'd have a glass of white with her dinner. "Water for now." The waiter, Jeff, bowed and disappeared into the kitchen.

Fish. Too much bacteria in fish recently. Bad batches had been the cause of her seeing many of her patients recently. The water in Noverus was probably growing more polluted as Aqua and Magma activity increased. Salad. Laden with pesticides more than likely. They weren't organic, and unless the restaurant could prove that they were Hoenn grown, Regan probably didn't want them. Nothing against the vegetables of the other regions, but she was sure that Kanto didn't care whether or not an Oddish or Sunkern wound up in their mixes. Why she was sure of this, no one knew for sure.

"Is Ma'am ready to order?"

She glanced upwards to see her waiter standing there with his pad and pen ready. Her expression ever unchanging, she scanned the Steak portion of the menu. Blackthorn City Steak Special. No. She couldn't ingest a 22 ounce steak. The mere thought was ludicrous. She'd go with the smallest steak.

"Steak Noverus. Well Done. I would like the vegetables plain and steamed please. No mashed potatoes."

"Would you like double vegetable instead?" Jeff offered.

"Did I ask for that?" Regan furrowed her brow, her eyes locking in on his with her harridan's glare.

"No ma'am."

"Therein is your answer." She frowned, not moving her hands from her lap as he reached over to pluck the menu from the table. "If you would, however, bring me a glass of house white with my dinner, please?"

"Ma'am, might I recommend a red to pair with your steak?" Jeff offered once again. He was met with the same, intense stare that indicated that the older woman was about to be very cross with him if he kept asking silly questions. He gulped visibly as he looked her up and down, the made a weak attempt at a joke: "Ma'am, may I see your ID?"

Regan stiffened more in her seat; something Jeff did not think was possible. The older women peered over her glasses at him, as if searching for a reason to find humor in the joke. She really was trying to find it funny, and flattering, but there was nowhere in her mind where she could drum up the mindset to laugh.

"Waiter. Do I look like I'm underaged?"

"Y...you're...just so pretty?" Jeff croaked uncomfortably "That I thought you were...under 21?"

"So you're saying the women are only allowed to be beautiful if they're young?" She was flattered at his awkward rectification of his joke, but she still found herself on the offensive.

"N-no?"

"Are you quite sure you want to keep answering my questions with questions of your own?"

"No. Ma'am. No ma'am."

They stood there in painfully awkward silence. For a moment, Jeff imagined her eyes burning a hole through his brain, right betwixt his eyes.

"Here is my ID." Regan reached into her purse, not even having to search to pluck out her identification card. She handed it to him with the ghost of a smile etched on her lips. Jeff scanned it, noted that it was, unsurprisingly, legitimate, and that she was younger than she appeared. Jeff would've placed her in her 50's, but the woman had just recently turned 40. He wanted to make a joke about that too, but decided against that.

"Thanks." Jeff muttered before bumbling back to the kitchen, clearly unhinged.

"Poor boy." Regan shook her head. "I must really be scary."

[Umbrae Calamitas]

Credentials
The Derelict Warehouse: 14/15
Recon: 15/15

Progress Tracking

Casper hadn’t been in Noverus for very long before he’d gotten lost. Again. He glared at the dirt road he was walking down, gritting his teeth. This was becoming frustratingly common for him – losing his way in the middle of a town that should have much better road signs than it did.

“Blast,” he murmured, and kicked a stone. It puttered down the road, bringing up little clumps of dust as it skittered through the dirt.

Hamlet had returned himself to his pokeball once Casper had started to get really annoyed, but Strings apparently enjoyed the emotion too much to miss out on the opportunity to linger in the vicinity of his master’s irritation. The shuppet floated and fluttered around Casper’s head, gleefully spinning in circles.

“I’m glad one of us is enjoying themselves.”

“Shup.” The shuppet fluttered to a stop for a moment, staring further down the road, before floating ahead of Casper and around a corner.

Surprised, Casper quickened his pace a little to follow his pokemon, and turned the corner to see a young man was being pressed up against the brick wall of an alley by some thug. Casper ducked back a little around the corner, enough that he wasn’t immediately in sight, and scanned the air for his shuppet.

Strings was floating around the thug’s head, only the minor ripple in the air showing Casper where the nearly-invisible pokemon was. The ghost pokemon was verily soaking in negativity, no doubt, with the thug’s anger and the younger guy’s fear. Casper tried catching another sighting of String’s, but once he had been noticed, the shuppet had gone completely invisible.

Oh well, Casper thought idly, as the thug greedily scooped the money out of the hands of the person he had shoved against the wall.

Casper glanced briefly at the mugger, who was now prodding the young man with a finger and demanding to know if he had any rare pokemon on him. Shrugging, Casper turned his back on the two and continued his way down the road.

Strings would get bored with the scene soon and catch up.

vs.

Ugh, miltank manure. Sagira grimaced, her nose crinkling, as she walked down the road that ran alongside a field of said cows. Viridian wasn’t a big town, but it wasn’t a farming town, either, and so she’d hadn’t grown up around tauros or miltank, or the effervescent scent of cow shit that some people claimed was as aromatic as the spring it heralded.

Sagira glanced down at the houndoom walking beside her and raised a slender eyebrow when she found he was sniffing the air with abandon. “Enjoying yourself?” she asked sarcastically.

Umbrae glanced at her and opened his mouth enough to pant a little, before recalling his tongue and returning to smelling the air with deep inhalations. Sagira rolled her eyes and continued on.

They were on vacation. Again. Or rather, Sagira was on vacation, and Jay and Ivy were undergoing a mission she wasn’t allowed to know anything about.

Translation: She was completely and utterly bored. And a little pissed at Bryce for leaving her out of the loop, but she’d had her comeuppance already.

With nothing to do and no one to spend any time with, Sagira had chosen to take Umbrae for a walk. He seemed to enjoy it, despite his disdain at her claims that he was getting a little chunky.

“Hey, give that back!”

Umbrae snorted out the breath he had inhaled and turned toward the commotion at the same time that Sagira did. The owner of the voice was hidden from view behind a small shed, but the two of them quickly cut that distance and turned to see a young man who was being held back by a big brute, while another man, slighter and rat-faced, was going through what was presumably the young man’s wallet with a gleeful grin on his face.

“Now, now, come on – share and share alike, they say.” The rat-faced man pulled a handful of poke out of the wallet and pocketed it, before tossing the wallet behind him. He turned his gleeful face on their captive. “Now, my young friend, what say you to telling me what sorts of pokemon you have on you? I might like to take a few, you see, and you’re such a generous lad.”

Umbrae had started growling only after Sagira had clenched her fists. Mugging was a little higher up on the scale, but there wasn’t much difference between it and bullying. And Sagira hated bullies.

The growl that rumbled out of Umbrae’s throat called the attention of both men, though the big brute only turned his head, keeping a tight hold on the younger man. The ratty man grinned widely at her, however, and stepped forward.
“Well, well, what have we here, eh? A pretty young lass, she is, come to join the party. What say you—“

The force of Sagira’s fist against Ratty’s face shut him up midsentence, and the wiry man was knocked back, though he retained his feet. Pity.

“Ugh, you – you bitch,” he said, pulling his hand away from a nose that was gushing blood.

“Yes, that would be me.”

Pinching his nose shut with one hand, he pointed at her with the other. “Billy, get the bitch!”

Releasing the young man he had been holding back, Billy, the big brute, ambled forward. Sagira glanced down at the houndoom beside her.

“Umbrae, the brick wall.”

Snarling, the houndoom lunged forward, as Sagira turned back to Ratty. “You have something in your pocket that doesn’t belong to you.” She flashed both of her hands open, very glad to have her clawed gloves back. “Let me help you with that.”

She was on vacation, after all. She was supposed to have fun.

[Master Houndoom]

Credentials:
15 Total Levels for Tememsdik Birger
15 Total Levels for Recon


Progress Tracking

Her. Again. This was getting old.

Jay's jacket flapped behind him as he ran, sighing. The bag in his hand contained a surprised he'd finally found for Sagira, a Sinnoh specialty that he knew she would like. The Chocolate Mint Delight, a small dome cake that he and his sister had snacked on on many an outing.

Unfortunately, the closest shop that had it was deep in Magma territory.

Unfortunately, he happened to be in the shop when a certain red-haired, hot-headed magma agent walked in.

Unfortunately, she was in a foul mood.

Getting past her and out of the shop was no easy feat, but luckily she didn't engage pokemon in battle. But she was tenacious, and, it seemed, as good at le parkour as he was, if not better. She had definitely been practicing since their last encounter.

But Jay hadn't been a slouch, either, learning the city during his rare off time, finding those hidden spots, and figuring out the best routes of escape. That, and the seeming guidance system he'd become aware of, that brightening of the path he should take that was so ever present as not to be noticed before, kept him ahead, even extended his lead.

Finally, passing a small, almost familiar series of shanty houses, he kicked up onto a wall, grabbed a low hanging eave of a building, and flipped his body onto the shingled roof. The shadow of the building next to the one he was on covered him, and the girl rounded the corner to inky blackness.

"Bloody hell," she cursed, walking forward, warily, looking side to side but not, as Jay would expect, up in any way. It always bothered Jay that people never looked up when going into a place they thought someone might be hiding. Now he felt he possibly owed his mother an apology.

"I know yuir here, ye great cheater." Jay had no idea why she was calling him a cheater, but, really, why did she insist on chasing him when she could never catch him. "I'll find ye, an' when I do, yuir goin' doon, ye understand?"

Of course Jay didn't answer, and the girl, whipping off the hat she wore and bunching it in her hands, leaned against the building. Her hair was cut short, and the stereotypical orange one associated with the Irish. She probably had freckles, he mused, though he remembered that she did from the one time he'd seen her in a restaurant, shortly before battling that crazy group of scientists. All in all, not bad looking.

She was breathing heavily. "Bloody prat got the last Chocolate Mint Delight, too... Happy bloody Birthday tae me."

Great. Just great.

She pulled her hat back on and turned to trudge back out of the shanty town when Jay made his decision. He slipped off the roof and walked up behind her, in the open. He stopped a few yards away from her.

"Hey."

She screamed and spun, only her training possibly keeping her from falling on her rear. Scowling, she reached for her belt, but Jay held up the hand that wasn't holding the bag. "Happy Birthday," he said, then, casually, tossed the bag to her. She managed to regain her composure with just enough time to catch it, then stared up at him, narrowing her eyes.

"Why?" she asked, suspicious.

"Because you should get at least one thing you want for your birthday," he said, shrugging.

The girl looked at the bag for a long beat, and when she looked back up, her face wasn't set in such a hard expression. "I want ye behind Magma bars, too," she said, half serious, but half sly.

"Instead you get delicious, moist cake." Jay gave her a slight smile. "Decent compensation, don't you think?"

She looked at the cake, then back at him, then back at the cake, then back at him. It seemed she was giving serious thought to giving up the cake, then shrugged. "I'll get ye next time, cheater..."

Jay raised a brow, but let it go for now. He still had a long way to go to pick up another cake, and Sagira wouldn't let him hear the end of how late he was as it is. "Enjoy the cake," he said, pausing, but he had never taken the time to learn her name, and she had never slipped and given it where she could hear. He turned to go, fully prepared to launch into full speed at the slightest indication that she would chase him anyway.

"Hey!"

He turned, sighing, but she was looking at the cake, twiddling with the handles of the plastic bag nervously. "M' Keela."

Jay chuckled, looked up, then nodded. "Jay. You're pretty good, you know."

"Oh, aye... yuir nae bad yuirself... fer a cheater." With that, she turned and ran, not at him, but the other way. Jay rolled his eyes and walked. Maybe Hinata would be able to port him home...

vs

Olivia Prewitt woke at 6:15. This was, in fact, late for her, and she had to look at the alarm clock to see why. The switch, which usually was marked on the "music" selection, set to play soft music as she woke, was set to off. The corners of her mouth turned slightly downward.

Looking at the end of her small bed, Nyx and Isra were staring at her, confusion in their large pokemon eyes. Olivia raised an eyebrow, her soft, almost child-like voice slightly disapproving. "Isra, did you turn off my alarm?" The purrloin's eyes hooded, and she snorted through her nose, an obvious expression of scorn. Olivia's lips pressed together, but she accepted the truth of what the pokemon was trying to convey. "Nyx?" She asked, only to eliminate all variables. The zorua shook her head, her eyes just as hooded but with no anger in her features.

This meant only one thing. Since the pokemon at the foot of her bed would have alerted her if her door had been opened, she, herself, must have neglected to turn the alarm on. This was alarming, given the day... it would have been more assuring if it had been Isra or Nyx, or even one of her colleagues... it was unlike her to forget such a thing.

She got up and got dressed. She had only overslept fifteen minutes. There was still plenty of time to get to her office and begin her duties. Rebellions, despite the romantic portrayal in literature and film, did not run themselves. They made due with less resources, true, but they still had the administrative needs of major organizations, if not more.

She made it to her office only five minutes early, but, even though the office door of her supervisor was open, she resisted the urge to apologize. She had learned through experience that to apologize for being less early than usual met with tedious odd looks.

Her supervisor looked as if he wanted to say something, but instead turned back to his work. She was not as lucky when the zaftig blonde office girl came squealing to her desk. "Livvie!"

Olivia closed her eyes and counted, backwards, from ten. Isra and Nyx were no help in this situation; Brittany, the squealing girl with curly blonde locks and ample sweets was a favorite of theirs, as she was not only generous with hugs, something that they at least did not oppose, but also generous with berries and poffins, even taking time to analyze what they would like the most.

Olivia tried to ignore the girl, but, of course, she couldn't. "Livvie, it's your birthday! You don't have to work on your birthday!"

With a long suffering sigh, Olivia looked up. She had long since given up on trying to shoo the girl away. "Brittany, I have work to do. Besides, my alarm didn't go off this morning."

"Oh no," the girl said, revealing that her sometimes vacant manner was less true than it seemed. "You only got here ten minutes early, then!"

"Five," Olivia said, putting a slight emphasis on the time as if to convey the depths of decadence sleeping in was. She was met with a sarcastic sounding gasp, and her lips pressed together.

"Well, let me take you to lunch."

"I'd rather not."

"Come on, Livvie, it's your birthday!"

"I see no reason to celebrate the fact that I haven't died yet."

"Then join me for a movie! There's some good ones in the Ritzle!"

"No."

"Then dinner." Olivia opened her mouth, but Brittany loomed in close, narrowing her eyes. "I won't take no for an answer!" The effect on anyone else would have been frightening, but she looked like a precocious pre-teen, especially after giggling, unable to hold the "stern" expression overly long.

"Tomorrow," Olivia intoned, trying to put off the inevitable for a little longer. Honestly, she should be able to be left alone on her birthday of all days, shouldn't she?

Brittany pouted, but the expression on Olivia's face didn't change. "Fine," she said with a sigh that expressed hos much she was giving up. "Tomorrow, then. Here. This package came to your fake address."

All Rebellion workers who lived at The Sanctuary had false addresses all around town, mostly in neutral areas where neither Aqua nor Magma were prevalent, and one of Brittany's duties was to pick up that mail and deliver it to the Sanctuary residents. She plopped a small package in a thick parcel envelope, stood, and walked off with a cheerful wave and goodbye, taking time to scratch Isra and Nyx behind the ears.

Olivia was curious. She hadn't used a fake name, since the apartment was the one that the Foundation paid for, so it wasn't odd that she would get packages, but for the life of her, she couldn't understand who would send her anything.

Putting her work aside, she pulled out the plain letter opener and opened the package. Out slipped a simple silver chain with a heart shaped, thick locket on it. Inside the locket was a picture of a brunette, smiling, and holding a small, black haired toddler.

Olivia snapped it closed, her throat tightening inexplicably. She hadn't... she...

Her mother was as beautiful as Olivia remembered.

A note had fallen out with the locket, and she opened it. In a messy, nearly illegible scrawl, surrounded by greasy or muddy stains, some of them running as if struck by water, were a few words.

Your Mother Would Be Proud.
Happy Birthday, Ollie.

The last word was smeared, but short, and she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt who it was. The idea that he was alive sent a roar of warring emotions through her, and she pressed her lips together, willing herself to neither cry nor hit the desk with her hand. She crumpled the paper and threw it away, and almost did the same with the locket, but the memory of the picture stayed her hand. Instead, she put it in a drawer.

Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her arms, breathing through her nose and trying to still her thoughts.

Finally, she picked up her phone, dialed in Brittany's desk number, and spoke, quickly yet clearly, in clipped tones at the beep.

"Brittany. I've changed my mind. Lunch will be acceptable."

[Umbrae Calamitas]

Approved. Post up your profile.

[knil1]

Derderderp

Credentials:
The Most Important Delivery of All Time 12/15
The Night the Moon was Gone 14/15

Progress Tracking

Sol sat, pen in hand, as he watched the families venture around the park. He jotted down notes about kids eating ice cream, adults feeding birds, a crazy woman kicking kids off of the slide. It was a boring mission, except the woman gave him something different to write down.
His superior told him to go and observe people at the park. Sol had just finished his 5th consecutive mission in 2 days, and Grant had thought it was time for him to take a break.

Rather ingenious. Sol knew that Grant had given him break time in the form of a mission so he would actually do it. But in actuality, Sol was ready to give himself a break anyway. He just might as well amuse Grant.

As Sol was taking notes, a dirt smell mixed with vanilla drifted by him.
“What are you doing?” The rebel looked at the child who just spoke. The girl shuffled in her seat, her ice cream dripping down the side of the cone, growing more uncomfortable with the stranger staring at her.
His expression remained unchanged, “I’m drawing pictures. Would you like one?”
“Yeah!” The girl sat upright and scooted closer to Sol. “Can you draw a picture of me on a Ponyta? And I want a picture of a Bellossom in there too.”
Sol got to tracing and the girl leaned in closer. “No, the Ponyta is running. You only have it standing.”
“I’m sorry”
“And the Bellossom is on the Ponyta too.”
“…”

After countless critiques, the girl ran off with her picture and ice cream to show another group of kids.
He set his notepad in his lap and straightened his back, which was hunched over the paper when he drew. When the paper hit his leg he felt cold. He pulled his hair back and watched as a chunk of ice cream slid off of his thigh onto the dirt below him.

He looked at it for a moment then lifted his note pad to take more notes.

VS

On her day off, Azrael was told to take a break. Go to the nearby park and ease her troubled mind. She also had to help someone, to make Team Magma look better. Agents had to drag her out of the Thumb when she was given an assignment she didn’t want to do.

Not to mention write a report! Who assigns a mission like that? Azrael was raised by the street. Writing was never required. Just hard work and the ability to beat somebody when a challenge came along.
Writing wasn’t difficult, however. Despite her truancy, she was well educated. Just the nerve. Michael had been on her case ever since she joined. Ever since then, he’s given her stupid orders.
“When I get back…”

She continued walking not paying attention to where she was going and ran into another child playing. He fell back and Azrael was met with a orange object scraping against her face. Eventually it flowed upward and popped in the tree above. The boy was more concerned with his balloon than the woman, but the woman was more interested in the boy.

She lifted him up by the collar. “Listen to me brat.” The boys face, once sad with the loss of his balloon, was now mixed with fear from the terrifying woman. She held in her laughter, but it came out in little bursts as she spoke.
“You… wa-watch out where… you’re going.” Eventually the childs sad, frightened face caused her to burst into laughter. “Ok kid, you win. Stay here.” She walked over to the balloon vendor and brought back a highlighter orange balloon.

“It’s not as sticky and gross as yours was, but I’m sure you’ll work on that.” The boy grinned when she handed it to him. When he looked back up at her, his smile fled faster than he did.

“Yeah! That’s a way to thank me! You’re going to grow up to be a real great guy at that rate! Your parents must be proud.” She straightened herself out. Parents all around her stared shocked.

“What? I’m being a good person. And good people get to ride the slide when they want to.”

She climbed the playground and lifted a kid off the slide and sat herself down. “Haters gonna hate.”

The Magma agents keeping an eye on her shook their heads as she slid down then ran back up to go again.

This post has been edited by knil1: Sep 5 2011, 10:26 PM

[Master Houndoom]

OK, I'm VERY sorry for the long, long wait. Real Life kicked my tail this month.

Second Character is go. Put in a profile, please.